


Those Without a Heart to Weaken

by yoshizora



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22345039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoshizora/pseuds/yoshizora
Summary: Ichirin returns to the temple after her failed investigation of Perfect Possession.
Relationships: Kumoi Ichirin/Murasa Minamitsu
Kudos: 13





	Those Without a Heart to Weaken

**Author's Note:**

> just some pointless fluff i wanted to get out. i finally got the chance to play aocf and i'm terrible at it, but the dialogue is fun

"You broke curfew."

Ichirin blearily raises a hand to her forehead, winces, and eventually opens her eyes. Somehow, she manages to muster enough strength to turn her head and look upward, gaze moving up from the feet by her head up to pale knees, then further up all the way to Murasa's slight frown.

"I don't have a curfew," Ichirin points out.

Murasa doesn't even try to argue with that. She only sighs and takes a seat beside Ichirin's futon, cross-legged. "It's late, is what I mean. I saw you come crawling back into the temple after the rest of us had dinner. You were out having fun all day, weren't you?"

There's something vaguely accusatory in her tone that Ichirin doesn't particularly care to point out. Her head _hurts_ , damnit. Sure, she could play along and agree— yes, she definitely had fun, and how it feels like her head's been slammed into a wall too many times to count, and all her muscles still scream in protest at the slightest movement and her bones would be dust if it weren't for her sturdy youkai constitution.

Or she could pretend to go back to sleep. 

Ichirin picks the latter. 

"Oi."

"Good night! Don't let the door catch you on the way out."

"You were gone all day!"

"Yes, that's right. And now I'm tired and would like to rest, thank you very much."

She can hear Murasa tapping the floorboards in a jittery rhythm, restless and too impatient. Her fingernails scrabbling against the wood nearly sounds like rain, pleasant white noise, almost enough to lull Ichirin back to sleep for real, but now she's too awake to actually commit to the charade. 

With an exaggerated groan of effort, Ichirin sits upright. "You missed me that much?"

Murasa's rarely ever sullen, even less moody, and her smiles can be just as insincere as any other common beast. Right now, though, she's only pouting, which would be cute enough to make a comment about if Ichirin were less fatigued.

"Poor Minamitsu. Must've been lonely, being cooped up in the temple all day. Here, here, come rest your head on my lap."

"Quit making fun of me!" Murasa lightly slaps Ichirin's arm, but that alone is enough to make her groan aloud and squeeze her eyes shut. "Oh, sorry."

"S'alright," Ichirin mutters. The faint glow Murasa emanates casts a sickly green glow across her duvet. It's fitting, for the wave of nausea that washes over Ichirin when she lies back down too quickly. A part of her wonders why Unzan hasn't tossed Murasa out by now, but he's a terribly heavy sleeper— and while clouds can't exactly be beaten to the degree she'd been, he was just as exhausted as she was, if not more. 

Murasa fidgets, still tapping the floor. "So... you were investigating the incident with Futo, huh?"

"Yup. Load of good that did, though." Suddenly reinvigorated by the need to complain, Ichirin's eyes snap open. "I was doing all the hard work, mind you! In the end we didn't even learn anything particularly useful. Ugh, Anesan was so disappointed... I knew teaming up with Futo was a bad idea, but Anesan was working with the saint and all. _The enemy of the enemy is thy friend_ , or something. Something like that. Well, it was nice to see Anesan and Toyosatomimi cooperating together, so it only felt natural to follow her lead."

"—Oh," Ichirin's hand shoots out to grab Murasa's ankle, interrupting her before she can even get a word out. "You really did felt left out!" 

"What's with that crazy accusation out of nowhere?" Murasa bats at Ichirin half-heartedly. "Don't mistake me for some kind of scorned lover."

Ichirin laughs so hard that it hurts. She gestures with both arms, and Murasa rolls her eyes but helps pull her up into a sitting position, since she's now wide awake. "You've been so _docile_ lately."

"Going straight for my throat, why don't you?"

"I wanna keep investigating the Perfect Possessions, even if Anesan scolded me. You should come out with me tomorrow!" Ichirin forgets all about her aches and bruises and sores for the moment, eyes shining bright in the sickly glow of Murasa's aura. "Why didn't I think of it before?! We're the perfect team, you and I! With our strength combined, those culprits are gonna be no match for us!"

"Y—eaah, maybe not."

"Huh?! Why not!" 

"Ah, well..." Murasa rubs the back of her neck. "It probably won't do the temple any good, if I start causing trouble."

" _We'll_ be causing trouble! Anesan and I have both been out there raising the dust already!" 

"But you're _you_ , and everyone loves Hijiri." Murasa nudges Ichirin, and she obligingly scoots over to allow Murasa to crawl onto the futon beside her. "I'm the no-good ship phantom of Myouren Temple."

Ichirin rests her head on Murasa's shoulder, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Oh, Minamitsu. You're always so self-centered. Haven't you taken any scriptures to heart?" 

"Ha, ha."

"Don't worry about it. If you ever cause any serious trouble, Anesan will beat you back into line."

"Ever considered that that's exactly what I'm trying to avoid?" 

"Or I'll beat you up myself!" 

"Wow. That's even more reassuring." 

Ichirin giggles, then remembers her ribs hurt. The day had been a flurry of fighting, and arguing with Futo, and more fighting and even more fighting with hardly a moment's rest in between points A and B. They'd been so fired up about their violent investigations, a single point of commonality they could agree upon— come to think of it, maybe that's why Anesan and Toyosatomimi had both suggested they team up? As much as she disagrees with Futo on many things, it was... fun. Even if they'd both been thoroughly trounced at the end of the day. 

But Ichirin had always prided herself on her lack of pride, unlike Murasa. A phantom's ego could be a very dangerous thing, and now she maybe realizes why exactly Murasa isn't very keen on participating herself. 

Or maybe she just feels compelled to watch over the temple while Hijiri and Ichirin are both out and about. 

"Hey," Ichirin leans against Murasa with her full weight. Of course, Murasa doesn't budge. "Wanna give it a try?"

Murasa raises a brow. "What?"

"Perfect Possession! It's easy!" 

"Right now?"

"Yup!" Ichirin shifts around on the futon to sit across from Murasa, dropping both hands heavily upon her shoulders. "I'll be the master in this instance, alright? But that means you have to let me in. All you've gotta do is relax and let down your guard, alright? Don't get tensed up, alright?"

"Hoooold on, wait a moment—"

If only meditation were so easy for Murasa. They grapple with each other for a moment, Ichirin trying to goad Murasa into relaxing and Murasa insisting that it's fine, they don't need to try it, she's perfectly fine sitting this incident out altogether. 

"Is it because you're a spirit, maybe? That could be why!"

"Don't you think you're taking this a bit too lightly?" 

"What? No way. Besides, if it's just us, isn't it fine?" Ichirin smiles stunningly right then, the corners of her eyes crinkling, her hands now a reassuring weight rather than a vice grip upon her shoulders. Murasa feels just a bit of that tension within her seep away. "You're my best friend, Minamitsu. A mutual trust like ours might create the strongest Perfect Possession duo yet!" 

"C'mon, bragging preemptively like that isn't very virtuous of you."

"But you're smiling too!" 

Huh, maybe she is. Maybe she could... give it a try then. Just for fun. On a whim. She takes a deep breath, and Ichirin mirrors the motion, sitting just a bit closer and never breaking eye contact. 

A full minute passes. Nothing happens.

Murasa's mouth twitches in a puzzled half-smile. "I don't—"

Ichirin rears her head back and slams her forehead against Murasa's.

**Thonk.**

"Ow!" 

"Why can't I get in?!" 

**Thonk.**

_"Ow!"_

"Let me in, Minamitsu!" 

**Thonk.**

"—Would you cut that out?!"

"Stop struggling!"

**Thonk. Thonk.**

"Ow— _ow!_ You're gonna crack my skull open, damnit!" 

"So what! It's not like there's anything in there anyway!" This time, before Ichirin can headbutt her again, Murasa catches her with a hand splayed across her face. "Mmmph!" 

"Calm down, Ichirin!" 

"I wanna possess you! Why can't I possess you?!" Once Ichirin makes no indication that she's planning to continue her impromptu attempt in splitting Murasa's head open like a watermelon, Murasa lets go. The look on her face almost enough to make Murasa waver, but.

Her head is throbbing now, so.

"Ohhh, my headache is even worse now..."

"And whose fault is that, huh?!" Murasa slaps her knee. 

To that, Ichirin half laughs, half groans in pain, and clings to Murasa's shirt as she carefully lowers herself to lie down. This time, Murasa lies down as well, though she's giving Ichirin a very pointed scowl. 

Ichirin should've expected something like that. Murasa's one of the most difficult, guarded, mentally embroiled people she knows, always caught between the throes of a youkai's hunger and a girl's desire for peaceful days. Someone like her could never be possessed or take possession even if she consciously tried to will it, probably.

That's what Murasa gets for having no heart to open up to others, she supposes.

"Be my icepack, Minamitsu." Ichirin curls up against her, breath warm against Murasa's neck. 

"Yeah, yeah. Just go to sleep."

"Says the one who disturbed my rest in the first place."

"Of course. Rest in peace, Ichirin." She can _hear_ the stupid grin on Murasa's face, too.

No, she's wrong. There is a heart in there, somewhere, steeped in brine but there all the same. Stained and unbeating, but there all the same.


End file.
